


Where I End And You Begin

by SpitfiresOnIce



Series: Real Or Not Real? [2]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst, Episode: s05e05 Save The Cat, F/F, I wanted to write from Catra's perspective and a prequel worked best for that, POV Second Person, chipped!Catra, hehe that's the title, once again a little violence technically, prequel to another fic I wrote, this fic ends where the other fic begins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:55:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25447960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpitfiresOnIce/pseuds/SpitfiresOnIce
Summary: Adora is standing in front of you. No, she isn’t. Yes, she is.Slash.No, she isn’t.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Series: Real Or Not Real? [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1843192
Comments: 6
Kudos: 78





	Where I End And You Begin

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for the kind feedback on the other fic! I wanted to write a bit from Catra's perspective, and a prequel felt most fitting for that.

How long has it been?

You don’t know.

You’re not sure if you know who you are right now, either.

All around you is green and it’s glowing and it’s washing you over completely. There’s something at the back of your mind. Something is nagging at you. But you can’t grasp it. Better to forget about it, then. What’s the point?

Your thoughts aren’t really your own right now, you find. You let it happen. What else is there to do? This is the end of the road. Sooner or later, your life will end here. You’re not escaping this place.

You briefly wonder why you’re still here to begin with.

Easier to just end your life right there, wasn’t it? You had failed to serve your purpose to him. You vaguely recall hearing something.

_You will be of use to me yet._

You don’t know what that means.

You had been of use to him, you think. You had to do something. No- you had to let something happen. Someone was supposed to come here. You recall a blurry face, blonde hair. Greyish eyes. You think the memory is supposed to cause you pain, but there’s so much sharp green around you that, honestly, everything is just a little vague to you right now. If you’re being honest with yourself, you don’t feel much of anything at all right now.

You think you _should_ feel something. You don’t.

There’s a tension at the back of your neck. Maybe it hurts, but that means nothing to you right now. It’s draining you, somehow, and you cannot find the will to care. It’s like it’s tugging at you so it can take over your actions.

You don’t understand why. But you let it. There is nothing left for you right now. There is nothing you _want_ to do. Someone else might as well take over.

Above else, though, you’re tired. You’re utterly exhausted by the weight of your entire life. You had made a decision to die here. You’ve said your last words. They weren’t enough, but they were all you could have given. You had accepted what would happen next.

So why are you still here?

Your head feels light in more than one way. You think you have memories, but something is blocking you from bringing them to mind. They’re in there, but there’s green, it’s everywhere, it’s muddling everything and making it float. If only you could get to them. Maybe it’s for the best. You think you used to have more hair. It would feel heavy when you were in water, dragging you down ever so slightly. It would spill over your shoulders, an ever present sensation that you didn’t notice, but now that it’s gone, you feel its absence. It leaves you exposed, colder. You feel cold all of the time, but it doesn’t matter.

You think you have a name. You don’t remember it.

No one has a name here.

\-----------------------------------

You’re being taken in front of him, in a room you don’t recall seeing before. You’re not sure why you’re here.

He smiles at you, calmly.

“We have received word she’s on her way. We’re ready for her. I would like to test something, if you would indulge me.”

He says it as if she has a choice in the matter.

“Yes, Horde Prime.”

The voice is your own, but you didn’t speak the words. That’s another thing you’ve learned. You don’t get to speak words anymore. Any thoughts you form, you don’t get to say them - they will not come out. Why Prime has you speak at all, you don’t know either. You’re pretty sure the words you do speak are his own.

You almost don’t catch the meaning of his words. Wait, what was that? She’s on her way? What does that even _mean_? You have an idea of what it could mean - but that makes no _sense_! Questions are rising through the green fog, and though you can’t quite feel the emotions, you sense an almost panic. And an almost… hope? Is Adora on her way? When the only thing on this ship is… you?

Is she doing it for you?

Horde Prime smiles, and you’re not sure why. He seems triumphant, in a way. That scares you. Or it’s supposed to.

“Shall we begin?”

He snaps his fingers.

\-----------------------------------

Adora is standing in front of you.

Adora.

**Adora!**

You can’t quite feel emotions the way you do normally. Something is blocking them. Even so, you’re definitely feeling _something_. You cry out her name, and you run towards her.

There is no sound, and you do not budge.

Adora is there, and you cannot reach her. You are trapped. She is looking at you, though. Hopeful? Scared? Stunned?

Then you are moving, but it is all wrong. The way you are moving scares you. What are you doing? The movement is being directed from the back of your neck, and your body obeys. No, no, no. This is all wrong. Not like this. Not like this! You’re closer and closer, but it’s all wrong. You’re moving too fast, it’s too hard. You’re moving as if you could hurt her. You’re moving as if you _want_ to hurt her.

You are trying to hurt her.

You are trying to hurt her, and for the first time in what you think is forever but something tells you that is wrong, you _do not want to hurt her_. Your claws are unsheathed and you do not want them to be. You are lashing at her face, and you do not want to be touching her this way. She dodges. You run after her. You feel blows that land on you. It’s muddled, as if you’re not quite there, but pain still hits. Number, duller, but somehow that’s not better. It’s as if it echoes deeper.

Your body is yours and not your at once. You feel what is happening, but not quite the way you used to. You feel a semblance of what you think is anxiety, but it’s not strong enough to clench your stomach and stop you from moving, it’s not enough to regain control.

And then you hit her. Hard.

Claws outstretched.

You tear right through her. And she flickers.

For a moment, she is frozen, an unreadable expression on her face. She’s not looking at you.

She vanished into nothing, and the room disappears around you.

It wasn't real.

\-----------------------------------

You are in disbelief.

She was coming here, wasn’t she?

She’s not coming.

Your head aches in a deep, dull way. You want to try to remember.

You think that, once upon a time, Adora would have come to take you from whatever this is.

You think that, once upon a time, Adora had a warmth for you.

You also think that it’s been a long time since that was the case.

Why would she come here for you?

The best thing you could have done for her was to remove yourself so that you could never, ever do anything bad to her again. You did the best possible thing. You wrapped things up. She has no reason to want you around, and you talked to her one last time to give her closure.

This is a closed door.

You become vaguely aware of Prime standing near you. You can’t tell what he’s thinking. You feel like you’re not supposed to feel things. You also feel like, when you _do_ feel something, he _knows_.

You do not enjoy it.

“Let’s try that again, shall we?”

\-----------------------------------

Adora is standing in front of you. No, she isn’t. Yes, she is.

_Slash._

No, she isn’t.

For many years, you has been trying to tear Adora down. For so many years, all you had was claws, and fangs, and fury.

How ironic, then, that now you had finally been ready to give them up,

_Slash._

they are the only way to ground yourself. A slap to the face, as it were. You have to tear her shape apart to realize she isn’t here. 

_Slash._

It hurts, and you deserve it.

_Slash._

It hurts to hurt her, and it hurts to see she wasn’t hurt, because none of this is real. Adora isn’t here and it hurts, hurts, hurts.

Adora appears again. Why is there still hope? Why, with every Adora, do you find yourself thinking… is this real? Or not real?

_Slash._

Not real.

You know now you had finally been ready to stop fighting her, and it didn’t matter, because you were so, so late. Now all you _have_ is fighting Adora, fighting fake Adoras to make them fall apart, a grim reminder of the years you had spent doing exactly this.

_Slash._

This is all you are.

_Slash._

This was all she was good at.

_Slash._

**_”Catra!”_ **

Adora’s back bleeds, and she cries out in pain.

What?

Blood stains your hands. You stare in disbelief. _Something_ washes over you. You haven’t felt anything this strong since you were… made this way. Since he washed you over with sharp green. Since everything hurt more than it should be able to hurt, and then you felt nothing at all.

What you feel now isn’t nothing.

Adora is standing in front of you.

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this in third person, then second felt better. Partly because she doesn't quite remember her own name so it felt a little weird to use it.  
> Thank you so much if you read this! I'm on Tumblr as onebiencell, if you have any writing prompts, feel free to send them here or there (anonymously or otherwise)! I would love to practise and get more into writing, but I need some ideas first, and one shots like these are a nice way to get some practice in. So feel free to tell me if there's anything you'd like to see!


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